


Sick/Hurt (one-shot)

by i_honestly_dek



Category: American Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt Sebastian, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_honestly_dek/pseuds/i_honestly_dek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friday night and you feel like crap. Fluffy Sebastian makes you feel less like crap.</p><p>I can't summary. Basically, it's fluff. Straight up fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick/Hurt (one-shot)

**Author's Note:**

> please comment:  
> -what i did well  
> -what i can improve on  
> -anything else I should write (aka any requests)
> 
> love yo faces <3

You’re balled up on the couch – sweats, socks, sweater, and blanket – with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. It’s been a long week and you feel, well, not good. It’s that period at the beginning of a fever-cold combination when you’re throat hurts, you’re shivering, and your head is pounding. Yet, you've decided to watch some Netflix, to make up for the crap week. You hear the door open, but you don’t turn around.

 

“Hello?” The New-York accent makes you warm. Sebastian’s home. You hear his keys drop on the table.

 

“Hi babe.” You say, quietly. He walks in and stops, seeing you on the couch. “There’s some chicken soup in the kitchen if you want some.”

 

There’s shuffling and the light sounds of movement in the kitchen. “Chicken soup…blanket…movie… Are you okay?” Soon after, he stands behind you on the couch, resting his hands on your shoulders.

 

You shake your head. “Nope. Almost feel like shit.”

 

“Almost?”

 

You look up and give him a shy smile. “Well, you’re here.” You’ve been going out for a while now, but he still has that effect on you. And you don’t forget to let him know. He smiles and leans down to kiss you. As he stands up straight again, he groans softly. You turn your body and completely forget the TV. “Are _you_ okay?”

 

“Yeah. Just a rough day. A few bruises for tomorrow.” Sebastian’s been training for another action movie, and the fight choreo – as he tells you – is beautiful and exciting, but hard. “I’ll be back. I’m just gonna take a shower.”

 

While he’s gone, you finish your bowl of chicken soup and somehow pull yourself off the couch to put the bowl in the sink. As you’re standing at the sink, Sebastian hugs you from behind and his head rests on yours. All you can do is put your hands on his and close your eyes.

 

“You wanna order pizza for dinner?” You feel his jaw moving on your head. “So that we can just relax and watch a few movies?”

 

You turn around, hugging him properly. His body warms you up better than your stupid sweater. As you rest your head on his chest, your headache dulls. You let yourself relax for second before responding. “Yeah, pizza sounds good.”

 

***

 

A few hours later, with 2 Netflix movies completed, an empty box of pizza, and a single beer shared between the both of you (he insisted that you share despite being sick because he didn’t want to drink the whole thing by himself), your head rests on Sebastian’s lap and his hand is laced in yours.

 

You turn to look up at him, and he looks down at you. For a second, everything stops. No words are shared. Just loving smiles. You pull yourself off his lap and sit facing him.

 

“Do you have any important shoots in the next week or so?”

 

All he gives you is a _very_ confused look. “What?”

 

You give a cheeky smile. “Just answer the question. Please?”

 

He wears a cautious face as he answers with, “No. Just stunt choreography for the next 2 weeks. Now why did you—“

 

You cut him off with a soft kiss. After a moment of shock, he kisses you back. Eventually, you pull away.

 

“So I could do that and not worry about getting you sick.”

 

Sebastian smiles and kisses you again. “You’re cute, y’know?” He looks at the clock. “Shit, it’s already 1:30.”

 

You look at the clock and instinctively yawn. “Go to bed. I’ll join you in like, 5 minutes. Lemme just put this stuff away.”

 

He sighs deeply and gets up, heading to the bedroom. You get up slowly – so as to not cause a jab of pain to run through your head – and throw the pizza box and beer bottle away. When you enter the bedroom, you see Sebastian in the bathroom, shirtless and examining his to-be bruises.

 

You stand at the bathroom doorframe. “Do you need help with that?” Without waiting for a reply, you get the medication, and slowly and softly start applying it to the bruise on his side. When you first make contact with his body, he stiffens.

 

“Sorry.” You say softly, pulling away for a second.

 

“No, baby, it’s fine.” He quickly says to you. “Keep going.”

 

 You continue, watching how he reacts. The rise and fall of his chest, the slight flex of his abs (basically unavoidable). You turn and catch his eyes in the mirror, watching you. You immediately turn away and finish with the bruise, but you can feel the blood in your cheeks.

 

He tilts your head up to look at him. “Thank you, (y/n).” He gives you another warm hug, then pulls you to the bed. Sebastian lies on his back and stretches out his arm for you to rest your head on. You do so, and place your arm over his torso, accidentally on his bruise. He flinches.

 

“Shit. Sorry, Seb.” You reposition your arm, careful to avoid the bruise, and kiss his shoulder. He laces his hand in yours. “Sometimes I get sick of seeing you hurt.”

 

You can feel his breathy laugh. “And I’m hurt when I see you sick.”

 

But I guess that’s just how we work.


End file.
